If there's one thing I'm not very good at (there are lots, I've said many times I'm only actually good at two things) it's talking. Particularly, talking to women. Now, I can tell already that this statement is straining the credulity of some in my audience. Some of you are thinking, "I've seen you talk. I've seen you and women talking and you could not be shut up, even when you very much should have been."

That's different. Those women are my best friends: all both of them. And if you've seen me do Champion Talking, you've seen me Drink Alcohol.

What I can't do is make conversation. I can have conversations, for hours. I can reliably be one of the last people to leave a venue because of all the conversing. But I completely suck at making small-talk. I can't do the contentless chit-chat that makes society function. This is not in any way to brag: it's something I often wish I could do.

It's not just face-to-face, either. Once an email correspondence has passed all the important functional information it needs to, I tend to consider it over. If I don't reply, it doesn't mean I don't like you, I'm just done.

One of my problems is that the things I enjoy talking about don't make for safe topics of conversation with strangers. Sex. Politics. Sexual politics. The evolution of the detective novel in the Victorian Period. Also, while I'm improving, I'm still not very good at spotting when a conversational thread is inappropriate. Let me give you an example.

Taking a taxi home from a bar one night, I got chatting to my taxi driver. His doing: if they don't talk, neither will I. Turned out this guy was fascinating: he'd been a wedding dress designer in Malaysia. So I was all being compelled by his life story. He told me about this Japanese girl he'd known, then we were talking about staying in and falling out of touch with people, so laughingly I told him a story about Facebook's recent friend suggestions for me, and why they were so appalling. He nearly ran off the road. He was all, "Oh my God, this is like an episode of Shortland Street," and I was thinking, "Dude, that's just the kind of stuff that happens to me." At least he was shocked and amused. Sometimes people are shocked and appalled.

While I'm okay dealing with individual women, mostly, put me in a group of women I don't know very well and I'm completely lost. Once I went to a Book Look (like a Tupperware party, but for children's books) a friend of mine was holding, which was all mothers from the school her kids attended. I'd spent pretty much the whole day watching American mid-term election results come in, and my partner was coaching me before I left.

"What are you not going to talk about?"

"Politics."

"And what are you going to talk about?"

"Children. I don't want to go!"

I was very quiet all night. Once, a very nice woman kindly asked me if my daughter read the Color Fairies books like all the other daughters, and I got to say no, actually, she prefers Captain Underpants. We never saw those people again.

The other thing I'm really bad at in casual conversation is lying. I prefer people to believe I'm a terrible liar generally –and also that I can't keep a secret - but I really struggle to tell the inclusive, inconsequential white lie. How bad is this? One of the questions I struggle to not tell the truth in reply to is, "How are you?" I've learned to say "Fine" largely because my partner is sick of seeing That Expression on the faces of checkout operators.

So all things considered, you can imagine the state of mind in which I went to my hairdresser on Saturday. Now, my hairdresser herself is lovely, but I can only really deal with that kind of environment by viewing the experience as an anthropological field trip. Even then, when the conversation about ghosts (underlying universal assumption, ghosts are real) was punctuated by the phrase "Typical Libra", I quailed. This is, of course, because I'm such a typical Aquarius.

So I am grateful to the earthquakes for providing Christchurch with a universal topic of casual conversation I can understand. I am also very grateful for smartphones. Though you can rest assured that the kind of text which has made me snorfle with laughter in the hairdressers has content which is Not Suitable for Casual Conversation.

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So all things considered, you can imagine the state of mind in which I went to my hairdresser on Saturday. Now, my hairdresser herself is lovely, but I can only really deal with that kind of environment by viewing the experience as an anthropological field trip.

We have discussed this before, but you really need to meet my hairdresser. You can talk to him about a lot of stuff, most especially your own specialist subjects. I feel privileged.

One of the questions I struggle to not tell the truth in reply to is, "How are you?" I've learned to say "Fine" largely because my partner is sick of seeing That Expression on the faces of checkout operators.

Oh I hear you! I cannot count the number of times I've said something I thought was a normal thing to say only to have the room descend into awkward silence.

Some of the difficulty is that my humour is too dry, too specialised or too rude for many settings so I find myself stuck with the topics about which I can be terribly, terribly earnest. I don't like me when I'm terribly, terribly earnest.

Once, a very nice woman kindly asked me if my daughter read the Color Fairies books like all the other daughters, and I got to say no, actually, she prefers Captain Underpants. We never saw those people again.

This encounter resonates so strongly with me. By virtue of the mysterious process of certain character traits breeding true I am raising somewhat non-conformist children and I find this is often the ultimate conversation stopper. The other mothers will be sighing "boys, huh?" at some purportedly masculine trait that my boys have never displayed and venturing to point out that fact invariably makes the silence descend some more.

Sorry for what? I almost always get this wrong. If you don't want to know how I am, then don't ask me. Otherwise I'm going to tell you about my ingrown toenail, my sciatic nerve and my... 'Yes, I'm fine. Thanks for asking'.

Oh I hear you! I cannot count the number of times I’ve said something I thought was a normal thing to say only to have the room descend into awkward silence.

This may have something to do with our shared socialisation context. It took me years to realise that the full-on snog was not an appropriate greeting outside of KAOS. Of course, then PAS introduced me to my Wellington friends, and I came full circle...

This encounter resonates so strongly with me.

My mother once said to me - only about a year ago - "Your friends who don't have children will never get it." And it's really stuck with me because, in general and particularly with sizeable-group-dynamic, I'm actually more comfortable with my childless friends because you don't wander into pits like that all the time. Also, I find it really hard dealing with people who can only talk about their kids, and I have enough purely-functional conversations about my own. I can only conclude that my mother never felt my near-constant need for two entire separate lives.

I should say, my hair does look fabulous. But this was my first professional colour, so the first time I'd been in the salon for two hours. My tweets became increasingly desperate.

I have been known to use small talk to disconcert people, but only gently.I know I can make some/most blokes squirm a bit if I volunteer something about my emotional state, especially if it is overwhelmingly positive.A late-middle-age hetero bloke actually saying things like "I really like being in your company" makes them double-take and/or reassess my suitability as a friend.(My friends are generally used to this by now, so not easily subverted.)

Most blokes find any discussion of almost anything to do with (their own or one another's) emotion too uncomfortable.

“How are you?”“Well, (brain clicks into gear and says, “you could leave it there” but…) a bit pissed off really, how can John Key…… …..and what about…… …..Can you believe what those bastards…. …..”Most people don’t ask me anymore.But it does give me an excuse to post this again…

How to Win Arguments, As It Wereby DAVE BARRY

I argue very well. Ask any of my remaining friends. I can win an argument on any topic, against any opponent. People know this, and steer clear of me at parties. Often, as a sign of their great respect, they don’t even invite me. You too can win arguments. Simply follow these rules:

Drink Liquor.

Suppose you’re at a party and some hotshot intellectual is expounding on the economy of Peru, a subject you know nothing about. If you’re drinking some health-fanatic drink like grapefruit juice, you’ll hang back, afraid to display your ignorance, while the hotshot enthralls your date. But if you drink several large martinis, you’ll discover you have STRONG VIEWS about the Peruvian economy. You’ll be a WEALTH of information. You’ll argue forcefully, offering searing insights and possibly upsetting furniture. People will be impressed. Some may leave the room.

Make things up.

Suppose, in the Peruvian economy argument, you are trying to prove Peruvians are underpaid, a position you base solely on the fact that YOU are underpaid, and you’re damned if you’re going to let a bunch of Peruvians be better off. DON’T say: ``I think Peruvians are underpaid.’’ Say: ``The average Peruvian’s salary in 1981 dollars adjusted for the revised tax base is $1,452.81 per annum, which is $836.07 before the mean gross poverty level.’’

NOTE: Always make up exact figures.

If an opponent asks you where you got your information, make THAT up, too. Say: ``This information comes from Dr. Hovel T. Moon’s study for the Buford Commission published May 9, 1982. Didn’t you read it?’’ Say this in the same tone of voice you would use to say ``You left your soiled underwear in my bath house.’’

Use meaningless but weightly-sounding words and phrases.

Memorize this list:

Let me put it this way In terms of Vis-a-vis Per se As it were Qua So to speak

You should also memorize some Latin abbreviations such as ``Q.E.D.,’’ ``e.g.,’’ and ``i.e.’’ These are all short for ``I speak Latin, and you do not.’’

Here’s how to use these words and phrases. Suppose you want to say: ``Peruvians would like to order appetizers more often, but they don’t have enough money.’’

You never win arguments talking like that. But you WILL win if you say: ``Let me put it this way. In terms of appetizers vis-a-vis Peruvians qua Peruvians, they would like to order them more often, so to speak, but they do not have enough money per se, as it were. Q.E.D.’’

Only a fool would challenge that statement.

Use snappy and irrelevant comebacks.

You need an arsenal of all-purpose irrelevant phrases to fire back at your opponents when they make valid points. The best are:

You’re begging the question. You’re being defensive. Don’t compare apples and oranges. What are your parameters?

This last one is especially valuable. Nobody, other than mathematicians, has the vaguest idea what ``parameters’’ means.

Here’s how to use your comebacks:

You say: ``As Abraham Lincoln said in 1873…’’ Your opponent says: ``Lincoln died in 1865.’’ You say: ``You’re begging the question.’’

OR

You say: ``Liberians, like most Asians…’’ Your opponent says: ``Liberia is in Africa.’’ You say: ``You’re being defensive.’’

Compare your opponent to Adolf Hitler.

This is your heavy artillery, for when your opponent is obviously right and you are spectacularly wrong. Bring Hitler up subtly. Say: ``That sounds suspiciously like something Adolf Hitler might say’’ or ``You certainly do remind me of Adolf Hitler.’’

So that’s it: you now know how to out-argue anybody. Do not try to pull this on people who generally carry weapons.

Also, I find it really hard dealing with people who can only talk about their kids, and I have enough purely-functional conversations about my own.

I enjoy talking about my kids in the sense that I find child development really interesting and they are my main case-studies. This is not the conversation that most people who want to talk about their kids want to have. I have come close to gnawing my limbs off to avoid the competitive brag-fests about whose little darling is the bestest.

Want to talk about the weather? Maybe you should talk to someone else.Want to talk about that local sports team? Talk to someone else.That TV show you watched last night? Talk to someone else.The lastest Hollywood celebrity shenannigans? Talk to someone else.Your rant about Helen Clarke? Is ignorant and distasteful.Your rant about the global warming conspiracy? Makes you look stupid.

I simply have no interest in ‘playing the game’. Needless to say, cab rides and visits to the barber are usually a fairly agonising experience.

This perfectly-serviceable point aside, Russell meant he and I have had this conversation, re hairdressers, a couple of weeks ago. In private, once the topic of conversation became unsuitable for public consumption.

However. I do have a sterling couple of examples of awkward conversation between me and David recently, which I probably shouldn't mention.

Small talk is learnable. The only real question is: Can you be bothered? If it causes you discomfort and embarrassment to be unable to small talk, it's actually pretty damned simple. So that first question is important. If you don't want to learn it, then you surely won't.

Oh I do, I do, I am actually an excellent small talker, black belt in small talk even when I am in the mood but from time to time I just want to be an awkward wallflower and I think it is odd for people who don't know me well to see the contrast. Kind of need a T Shirt 'I am out in public because I am trying to achieve xyz but do not actually want to interact, talk to me but let me passively sit there while you do all of the conversational heavy lifting.'

Yes, men don’t expose their privates so easily. Some of that is possibly because they’re far more easy to tear clean off than a woman’s.

Oh, I’ve got the fine art of over-sharing to an intimidating degree while revealing absolutely nothing of value. Much finger food and a faint air of bemused fascination also help those unavoidable bouts of social intercourse pass on fleet feet. Funny how people don't notice if you're mute, when you actually find what other say much more interesting than the sound of your own voice.

(I do enjoy Christmas parties though – wee fruit mince pies and an intense discharge of social obligations? Wizard.)

Yes, and like you mentioned in another thread, I’ve learned enough vague detail to be able to deflect awkwardness when, for example, sport comes up. Enough to be able to hold my own politely while planning a swift exit for a drink or pit stop.

But there’s no easy escape from hairdressers and cabbies - they hold you hostage until their conversational demands are met. When we returned from the UK last year, we got stuck with a cab driver on our trip back from the airport who would. Not. Shut. The fuck. Up. Had a conversational style that involved asking a lot of questions, and then telling you he knew a bloke who could come round and fix that for us. Just what I wanted after 24 hours on a plane with a 6-month old.

I found myself doing that the other day. The guy in front of me in the queue (express lane, even) decided that "how are you" deserved a full examination of his medical, social and legal situation. With a bit of wiggling I managed to push him around to the end of the checkout so the checkout chick could process my stuff. No offence, I came here to shop.